Marco Polo
by valentine
Summary: (Lex/Clark) Clark leaned across the table and blew out half of the candles. "Have you ever played Marco Polo?"


Marco Polo 

Disclaimers: So very not mine 

Notes: Huge thanks to N. for the beta and hugs to Grail for the beta and for siccing the bunny. Completely gratuitous PWP. That is all. 

**Marco Polo** by valentine 

* * *

Lex felt absurd as he stood on Clark's front porch lighting candle after candle. Catching his reflection briefly in the window did little to help the matter. Already sporting a bald pate and an antique candleholder, he realized with dismay that it would only take a monk's robe and about a hundred pounds to turn him into Uncle Fester. Shaking his head briefly to clear the discouraging mental image, he rang the bell. 

The door opened quickly to reveal a tall, broad figure, and Lex wondered exactly how long Clark had been watching him from the shadows. 

"Lex!" 

The brightness of the smile was almost blinding in the night. As bright as Clark's white undershirt. A shirt, Lex noticed, that appeared to be at least three sizes too small. 

"Clark." 

"Wow." Clark stepped back, motioning Lex in. "I just asked for a couple of candles and you show up with...well, with whatever that is." 

"It's a candelabrum, Clark. Surely you've seen one before." 

"Well, yes. But I thought they were just decoration." 

"They're really quite functional. Much better illumination than you'd get with a single candle." Lex held up the heavy silver piece to demonstrate. The light easily touched all corners of the Kent's living room. 

"Besides, I'm surprised that you don't have your own supply of candles. This is a farmhouse in the middle of Kansas, after all." 

"I'm sure Mom has a secret stash somewhere, but since she and Dad are out of town..." Clark shrugged, turning towards the kitchen. "Want something to drink?" 

Lex moved quickly when Clark turned, reaching out to flip the light switch. He fully expected the overhead fixture to come on. He was a trifle disappointed to find himself still in darkness. More than quite a bit disappointed that Clark really had just needed the candles. 

"I don't suppose you have any scotch?" He asked, hopefully, while silently resigning himself to yet another innocent evening at the Kent's. At least this time they were actually in the house instead of exiled to that damn barn. 

"Nope." Clark threw open the fridge, bending over to view the contents, his long legs the only part of him still visible. "There's milk, orange juice or water." 

Lex's waning interest piqued somewhat at the sight. If that stance wasn't strictly intentional then Clark really was the most naïve eighteen year old he'd ever known. 

"Lex?" 

Reluctantly, he allowed his eyes to travel slowly up that body, finally fixing on Clark's face. Clark's grin was wide open and not a little goofy. Right. Farm boy. Barely legal farm boy. Blatantly heterosexual, presumably virgin, barely legal farm boy. And he wondered when, exactly, cold showers had become such a daily routine. Probably the day Clark had turned seventeen. At least that's as early as he was willing to admit, even to himself. 

"Hmmm..." He honestly couldn't remember the question. 

"Water?" 

"Tap or bottled?" 

Clark just raised his eyebrows with amusement, not even gracing the question with an answer. 

"Tap, right. Orange juice it is then." 

Clark poured two glasses, handing one to Lex while downing his own in one long gulp. Lex couldn't help but stare. Two years of this game and sometimes Lex was sure that they weren't even on the same playing field. Frustrating didn't begin to cover it. 

"Thanks for coming by," Clark offered, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "I hope I didn't drag you away from something important." 

"Well, you did disrupt my enthralling evening of monthly reports." 

"Sorry." Clark at least had the decency to look properly chastened for a moment before turning on the smile again. "Hey, but since you're here, I could give you your birthday present." 

"You didn't have to get me anything, Clark." 

"I know. I wanted to. Besides, it's practical. You'll like it, trust me." 

"I'm intrigued." 

"Yeah? How intrigued?" 

Lex looked at him quizzically. 

"I mean, are you willing to work for it?" 

"Depends on the work." 

"Just a little game." Clark leaned across the table and blew out half of the candles. "Have you ever played Marco Polo?" 

"Once, I think. I seem to remember it involving a swimming pool, a misplaced elbow and a bloody nose." 

"Well, the pool is optional, although the injury is pretty standard." Clark blew again, extinguishing all but one of the flickering lights. 

"Well, that just sounds..." Lex trailed off, suddenly entranced. 

Not three feet in front of him Clark was languorously swirling his tongue around his thumb and index finger, his face painted in dancing shadows. The gesture was so blatantly sexual Lex began to rethink his innocent farm boy equation. Clark reached out, lingering just briefly over the flame before dousing it with spit-slicked fingers. The hiss of dying heat shivered up Lex's spine as the room plunged into darkness. 

"Clark?" Lex steadied himself on the wooden table, his eyes unable to pick out any shapes. "This isn't very safe." 

"Lex Luthor? Playing it safe? I thought you were all about taking risks." Clark's voice sounded lower, and Lex might have called it husky coming from anyone else. 

"Calculated risks, Clark. This is just stumbling around in the dark. I could fall and break something here." 

"It's okay. I can see you, I'll let you know if you're about to hit something." 

"You can't see me." Lex stared into the dark, looking for any indication movement. 

"Yes, I can." 

"Fine. What am I doing right now?" 

"I really don't think Mom would approve of that particular gesture in her kitchen, Lex." 

"How can you possibly see me?" 

"I have brown eyes." 

"And that would be apropos of what exactly?" 

"Brown eyes adjust more quickly to light changes than blue." 

"Riiight." 

"No, really. Just give it a few minutes. Until then, let's play." 

"Are you sure you're 18?" 

"Come on, it'll be fun." 

"Only if you expand your definition of fun to include probable contusions and possible broken bones." 

"Spoilsport." 

"Well, now that you've resorted to name calling, I think it's definitely time that I leave." Lex moved in the direction he thought the door would be, only to run into a counter. 

"Clark?" 

"Clark, this is ridiculous. Answer me." 

"Fine. I'm leaving." He carefully felt his way around the edge of the counter. 

"So leave." Clark was suddenly behind him, breathing into Lex's ear, warm and humid. Something damp and rough pressed into his hand. 

"Clark..." It came out much more of a groan than he'd intended. And if Lex didn't know better he would swear he felt Clark's lips brushing against his bare skull. Turning unconsciously into the contact, he found there was nothing behind him but air. 

Slowly unfurling the cloth, he was shocked to discover he was holding a shirt. Clark's shirt. Which meant... 

"Christ." Closing his eyes Lex brought the shirt up to his face, breathing deeply. Sweat and bleach and, underneath it all, Clark. Above the sudden rush of blood in his ears Lex thought he could hear a distinctive snicker. He turned towards the sound, squinting his eyes to no avail. 

"Fuck you, Clark." 

Another snicker from the shadows, and he could almost feel the heat radiating from Clark's cheeks. Jesus. The boy still blushed at the word fuck. 

Carefully judging the distance in the dark, Lex was sure Clark was within reach, just about four feet to the left. He held his breath, slowly shifted his feet, and lunged. 

Stumbled into nothing but open air and only years of fencing kept him on his feet. 

"Clark?" 

"Come on, Clark." 

Fuck. 

"Marco?" He growled, shedding his outer coat. 

"Polo." 

Lex turned slowly, closing his eyes to shut out any lingering light, and concentrated fully. 

"Marco?" He reached out gingerly, letting his fingers trace the contours of the nearest wall. Important, he knew, not to get lost in the middle of a room. Meticulously, he began to construct a mental map of the Kent's house. 

"Polo." Voice farther away, in the living room perhaps. 

Taking one cautious step, he cocked his head. The key wasn't the words; instead he listened for the telltale whisper of breath. Couldn't help but smirk at what he heard. Clark was a mouth breather, apparently. That, or he was very...excited. Aroused. Lex allowed his mind to linger on the possibility briefly before discarding it. Some things were just too much to hope for. 

"Marco?" 

Lex froze, suddenly assaulted by a wash of air. More than just a breeze, like ghosted whispers of touch everywhere, all at once. Gone much too soon but not before leaving him breathless. 

"Polo." Low and quiet and almost within reach. 

Following the voice, he was forced to give up the wall. He stilled, imaging his position in his mind. Kicking one foot out he found the low stair he knew should be there. "Marco?" 

"Polo." Above him to the left, which meant Clark was upstairs. The low heat that had been building in his belly spread to his limbs, flaying every nerve ending, because the only things upstairs were bedrooms. With beds. And Clark. 

Giving up on caution, he mounted the stairs two at a time, pausing only briefly on the landing before continuing down the hall and entering the room at the end. 

The window on the far wall provided the barest of illumination, just enough to make out the vague shape of a bed. 

"Marco?" The ragged edges of his own breath obscured all other sounds and for a moment he worried that he'd stumbled into the wrong room. 

"Polo." The word was mouthed reverently into the nape of his neck and he unconsciously leaned back into the large, insanely warm body pressed up against him. Strong arms surrounded him, pinning his own arms as Clark's long fingers worked at the buttons of his shirt. 

"Clark?" 

"Hmmm?" 

"What are you doing?" He knew his voice was level, belying all the excitement and _want_ running through his body. Another begrudging thank you owed to his father for that particular skill. 

"I'm taking off your shirt." Like it was the most natural, obvious thing in the world. 

"I..." He lost the thought completely when Clark caught the delicate skin of his ear between sharp teeth. "Jesus." 

Abandoning any reservations he had left, Lex spun out of Clark's grasp, briefly crushing his lips against Clark's before pushing him down onto the bed. 

Or rather, pushing him down where he thought the bed should be. The soft squeak of springs assuaged that fear almost immediately. 

Lex withdrew into empty space just enough to toe off his loafers while working desperately at the remaining buttons of his shirt. He peeled the soft silk from his skin, pleased by the gasped sigh from Clark. He silently cursed the moonless night and his blue eyes. He wanted to know if Clark looked as debauched as he sounded. 

Lex wanted to see everything. 

Clark sprawled out in front of him, waiting for him. And maybe for the first time in his life Lex had no idea where to begin. Because Lex was used to getting everything he wanted more often than not by force of will. But this wasn't Lex taking; this was Clark giving. Somehow Lex had never really anticipated that. 

"Lex?" 

And there was a strong hand in his, pulling him forward, guiding him down. 

Groping clumsily for a moment, he managed to lower himself between Clark's legs with some small semblance of grace. Leaning down to the sprawled body he laid a trail of biting kisses up that long expanse of skin, until he could lay his body across Clark's 

He shifted, intertwining their legs, swallowing down Clark's pleased moan. Slowly he began rocking his body, trying to find a matching rhythm to Clark's desperate thrusts. 

Lex licked a trail from Clark's collar to his chin, pausing to gently suckle the sensitive skin just below the angle of his jaw. 

"Oh. God. Lex!" 

Clark's voice broke over his name, his hand pressing insistently into the small of Lex's back, pushing them together. A strong arm wrapped across Lex's shoulders and, after a moment of vertigo, he found himself smothered in farm boy. Vague understanding that Clark's bed wasn't nearly big enough for such a maneuver, which meant...Lex bit back laughter. He was fairly sure that if Martha was offended by simple hand gestures in her kitchen, this was pretty much guaranteed to cause a massive heart attack. 

Strong hands circling his wrists brought him back. There was a question in that grip, which he answered with a slight nod. Hands pinned above his head and Clark kissing him; slower and sweeter than it had any right to be. 

He groaned in protest when Clark broke away. Would have moved into actually whining, except he was being _petted_. Blunt fingers exploring every inch of exposed skin and Clark above him grinding them expertly toward orgasm. 

So, definitely _not_ a virgin. 

Lex was vaguely relieved, and...jealous? 

And only a moment to feel either before he was wiped clean, surrendering and coming. 

"_Clark_--" 

"God, _Lex_--" 

Clark collapsed onto him. Lex's now free hands instinctively went to caress Clark, his fingers playing along the stark ridges of ribs, in the valleys between vertebrae. Consciously, he willed his breathing to slow, matching his in to Clark's out. Should've been easier, but Clark was heavier than even his strongly muscled limbs implied. And it was...not comfortable but comforting. Two things Lex had never thought could go together quite that way. 

"Lex?" He could feel Clark's smile growing against his neck. "Are you sure you're 23?" 

"Pretty sure." 

"I'm just asking, because I thought coming in your pants was something you're usually over by the time you're 16." 

"People in glass houses, Clark," Lex accused, moving his hand down to palm the wet fabric of Clark's jeans. 

"Yeah, but I'm just a kid, remember." 

"Christ, Clark, don't say things like that," Lex groaned, burying his head in Clark's chest. "At least not while I'm half naked in your parents' bed." 

"So it's okay if you're fully naked?" 

Lex bit hard into that obscenely muscled chest. "Are you always this annoying post-coitally?" 

"Chloe finds it charming. Luke usually just tells me to shut up." 

"Luke?" Lex cringed at the slight break in his voice and hoped Clark hadn't heard. 

"Friend of Chloe's." Clark rose up, supporting himself on one his elbow, carefully caressing Lex's cheek with the other. "Let's just say that Chloe's internship at The Planet has been...educational." 

"Apparently." 

"Lex..." Clark grinned shyly. "I'm kidding." 

"Oh?" 

"I never slept with Chloe." 

It took Lex much longer to process than it should have. 

"_Oh_." 

And that too, was a scenario Lex hadn't planned for. Not anything he hadn't done by eighteen, of course, but he had been worldly and spoiled at that age, and, if he was honest with himself, high for most of it. 

"Does it bother you? I mean, about Luke?" 

"No," he lied. 

"It wasn't really a thing anyway. I just..." 

"Just what?" 

"I didn't want you to be my first." The words spilled out of Clark like water from a broken dam. "Oh, god, that didn't sound the way I-" 

"Clark." Lex squeezed Clark's upper arm and wished again that he could see his face. "You don't owe me an explanation." 

"No, I do." Clark's voice was so earnest Lex cringed. "I just thought that if I knew what I was doing, if I had some experience, it would be better for you. For us." 

Lex didn't know what to say; he hardly knew what to think. Clark had been waiting for this; he'd been _planning_ for it. 

"And, wow," Clark chuckled sheepishly. "I'm really just blowing any chance of a suave image here aren't I?" 

"Out of the water, yes," Lex smiled, reaching up to thread his hand through Clark's hair. Gently he pulled Clark into a careful kiss. Brushing lips Lex tentatively licked at Clark's mouth, deepening the kiss only when he felt Clark relaxing above him. 

Couldn't help the small moan as Clark pulled away. 

"So, this is okay?" Clark rested his forehead against Lex's. "We're okay?" 

"Yes." Lex kissed him again, a touch hard and fleeting. "Although there is the matter of your image. I'm afraid it's a long, hard road back to suave, Clark." 

"Oh." Clark leaned forward, licking the spot just under Lex's ear. "Anything I can do to speed the process along?" 

"Christ, Clark. That's a very good start." 

The feel of rough stubble against his neck threw small sparks down his spine. Lex threw his head back, arching into the sensation. 

"Clark?" 

"Hmmm..." His voice was muffled as he moved down to mouth Lex's chest. 

"Your clock." Lex twisted, looking more carefully at the digital display next to his head. 

"Uh huh?" 

"It's on." 

"Oh. Maybe the power came back on." It came out much more of a question than Clark had intended, he was sure. 

"It's not blinking." 

"Uh huh?" 

"If the power went off and then came back on it should be blinking," Lex said solemnly, tilting Clark's chin up to stare at the shadowed features of his face. 

"Would you believe batteries?" 

Lex reached across the dresser, deftly flicking on the lamp. "No." 

"Hmmm..." 

"Clark, did you ever lose power?" 

"Does it matter?" 

"Clark..." 

"God, you're cute when you whine." Clark dipped his head, laving Lex's collarbone with a vengeance. 

"Oh..." Lex relaxed into the touch briefly before he could focus again. "Wait. You couldn't just say you wanted me to come over?" 

"I thought that would be too transparent." 

"And _this_ was subtle?" 

"It got you here," Clark pointed out, a little defensively. 

"True," Lex conceded. "You really thought I'd say no?" 

"No. Not really." 

Lex was sure it was the smuggest smile he'd ever seen in his life. 

"Then..." 

"Call it a whim. Besides, it was more fun this way." 

"What way?" 

"Playing seductor and seductee." 

"Who was I?" 

"Again, does it matter?" 

Lex considered the situation for a moment: Clark, half-naked, in bed, with him. "No." 

"And I have to say, as far as birthday gifts go, this one ranks right up there." 

"Oh, this wasn't the gift." 

"Are you sure? Because it felt a lot like a present." 

"Yep." Clark shifted slightly, reaching with his long arms under the bed. "Here. Happy Birthday, Lex." 

"It's a helmet," Lex observed in disbelief. 

"Like I said, practical." 

"I've been in Smallville for two years. Don't you think this is just a little belated?" 

"I don't know." Clark stared down at him for a long moment, and Lex felt... studied, like Clark was searching out every hurt he'd ever suffered. "You don't seem too worse for the wear." 

"Good to know I have your approval. So why the sudden concern for my safety?" 

"Let's just say I have a vested interest in keeping you healthy," Clark grinned, ducking his head to gently lick at Lex's lips. 

"Oh." Lex gasped as Clark ground down against him. He wondered if he'd ever been that quick to recover. 

"Lex?" Clark paused from working his tongue across the smooth expanse of Lex's pale chest. 

"Yeah?" 

"Do you think we can try it again? This time, you know, _without_ the pants?" 

"Anything you want Clark. Anything." 

* * *


End file.
